Lust
by Dire Banshee
Summary: Someone decides to have a little fun with Dean. Slash and is voyeurism a warning?
1. Chapter 1

**Lust**

_Hello all and welcome to my very first Supernatural fic, very first outsider/first person POV, very first wing!fic, very first slash… Wow, that's a lot of firsts. Anyway, it's here for your reading pleasure but be sure to tell me what you think, I'm kinda nervous about this one._

_~Dire Banshee_

_Oh, and also, Supernatural and all associated characters are not mine. I have no money, please don't sue._

Part 1

"Well, well, well. Dean Winchester," I purred at the hunter in front of me. "Never thought I'd see you again."

He frowned at me, that pretty face a mask of confusion. I could practically see him going through his catalogue of one-nighters trying to place my face. My lips curved into an amused smirk.

"Don't tell me you don't remember me," I pouted, looking up at him through my lashes. "We had so much fun in Nebraska. At least, until your friend sent me back to Hell."

I let him see the real me then, in the eyes of my host. The eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and mine is black as pitch. I saw the spark of recognition in those green eyes of his a split-second later. Never let it be said that Dean Winchester isn't smart. Too many of my fellow demons have made that mistake and look at what happened to them.

"Lust," he said, his voice a low growl that sent sparks through my borrowed body and a shiver down my spine. I smiled at him.

"You _do_ remember. Good. A girl hates to have not made a lasting impression."

"Give me one good reason not to waste you right now."

I took my time answering him, choosing instead to circle him, admiring the play of muscle under his tight black T-shirt and dryer shrunken jeans. I licked my lips. Thank you, Maytag.

"With what, exactly?" I finally asked as I came 'round in front of him again. "The Colt that's floating around the Middle East right now or Ruby's knife, that's across town in little brother's pocket?"

He glared at me, a look in his eyes that made me shiver for a different reason. Alastair had been one scary son of a bitch, even by demon standards. That he saw fit to take this man under his proverbial wing during the hunter's time in the Pit told me more about Dean than even he probably knew himself. It also told me that now I _had_ to go through with my plan. It was nothing too fancy. Not like Lilith trying to raise the Big Boss, but impressive nonetheless. Not to mention something I _really_ wanted to see.

He was tensed when I refocused on him, reaching into his pocket for what was probably holy water, but I didn't let him get that far. I shot my hand out and grabbed his wrist, shoving my power into his body before he could blink. I held on for a full minute, giving him as much juice as I could, far more than I'd usually use but better overkill than under. The last time I'd underestimated Dean's strength I'd wound up with a face full of holy H2O and a ticket back to the hot box, and he wasn't Heaven-touched then. I was taking no chances. Once I was certain I had him I leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"He's yours, you know? Has been from day one, and isn't that what you've always wanted, Dean? Someone to be just yours?"

I could feel the suggestion taking hold and took a step back as he nodded.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

I could see the instant Dean Winchester's infamous single-minded determination focused on one person and took the opportunity to relocate myself out of sight. I was positive he was completely under but why tempt fate?

She's a fickle bitch.

Trust me, we've met.

Dean took off down the street, focused solely on the object of his desire. I trailed behind him, keeping out of sight, 'cause there was no way in the seven hells that I was missing this. In all honesty, my plan could have gone in two different directions, not that I really cared which 'cause either one would end up in pretty much the same place. It was all up to Dean to choose which road to travel.

One road let to Sam, the not-so-sweet-and-innocent baby brother, Dean's reason for living, his reason for dying… not to mention that the kid's probably hung like a horse. I made a mental note to ask Ruby if we ever ran into each other.

Now, while inappropriate feelings for one's own family members are buckets of fun, at least for me, something even better lay down road number two, the road that Dean was traveling down at a near dead run, and I couldn't be happier. While leading an already dark soul even further from the light is all in a days' work, corrupting the innocent is what we demons live for, and really, who's more innocent than an Angel of the Lord?


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Castiel, the angel that had stormed the Pit and drug Alastair's very apt pupil from the depths, was standing in the brothers' hotel room by the time Dean got there. The hunter almost kicked the door down before charging inside as I found a comfortable spot outside of the window and settled down to watch.

'Places gentlemen. And… action!'

Dean pounced as the angel turned to look at him. The hunter gripped the lapels of the angel's trench coat and hauled the shocked creature forward, smashing their lips together. Before the angel could react, Dean released one hand from his coat and brought it up to the back of his head, holding Castiel in place as Dean kissed him, forcing his tongue into the angel's mouth. Castiel pulled back after a minute and gripped Dean's shoulders, holding the hunter at arm's length and speaking to him, though I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could guess. Dean shook his head and attacked the angel's mouth again, shoving trench and suit jacket from Castiel's shoulders as he shoved him back toward the bed. His feet tangled in the discarded clothing and they both tumbled back onto the bed. Dean sat up, straddling the angel's hips, and started working on the buttons of his shirt.

Castiel was talking again, his lips moving but doing nothing to stop the hunter as he finally spread the shirt wide and ran his palms over the angel's borrowed chest. I had to give him credit, though. Castiel had picked a damn fine vessel. I leaned back against the tree outside their window and ran a hand over my borrowed chest, flicking at the nipples as I felt them peak beneath the thin satiny shirt I wore. The soul screamed at me, disgusted and afraid and I smiled, giving one breast a particularly hard squeeze, making sure she could feel it, before turning back to the night's entertainment.

Dean had found a way to shut the angel up; pressing their mouths together again as he jerked the belt out of Castiel's pants and flung it away. The angel brought his hands up again, pushing Dean away and trying to talk sense into the hunter once more but Dean was hearing none of it. He yanked open the angel's pants, thrusting his hand inside as he ground himself against Castiel's thigh and finding his mouth with his own again. Dean's hand began a steady up and down motion and I watched as Castiel's eyes went wide before closing tightly as his head fell back against the bed, neck arching beautifully. Apparently Dean thought so too because he moved his kisses to the exposed flesh, sucking and biting as he rutted against the other male.

Castiel's fingers tangled in Dean's short hair and brought the hunter's mouth to his own again before he started tugging at the man's t-shirt, running his hands over Dean's back, short nails digging into his shoulders. Dean pulled away enough to pull the shirt over his head to join the growing pile beside the bed, the scarring handprint on his shoulder catching my attention for a second. Castiel sat up to kick off his shoes and yank the tie from around his neck before discarding his shirt. Dean went for his lips again, pressing their chests together, trying to push Castiel back into the bed but the angel had other ideas. He gripped his hips and switched their positions, pressing Dean down into the bed, tugging his jeans down over his hips and off his legs. Dean sat up and grabbed Castiel's hips, pulling the angel down to grind against his crotch.

"I'm gonna fuck you," Dean said.

Before you ask, no, I still couldn't hear anything but you don't need to be a lip reader to know those words when you see 'em. Now, Castiel was being way more accommodating than I'd though he would be, what with being an angel and all, those guys have no sense of humor, believe me, but what happened next shocked even me. Castiel smirked, seriously smirked, at Dean. I swear to you, he looked almost demonic as he leaned in and replied, "What makes you think I'll be the one getting fucked."

I have never been so happy of proper enunciation in my entire existence. I actually went weak in the knees at the angel's announcement and Dean gave him a smirk of his own, his more a '_yeah, right_' than whatever was on Castiel's face, and tried to take the dominant position again. He didn't get far. It became clear very quickly that the angel had only been allowing himself to be manhandled before; it was also clear that that time was over. Dean got this obstinate look on his face and tried to roll Castiel again but wound up on his back instead, Castiel looming over him, hands on his shoulders, pressing the hunter into the dingy hotel comforter as the angel ground his erection into the man's thigh, as Dean had done earlier.

Dean was struggling now, determined to come out on top, which didn't surprise me in the least, he seems the dominant male type. What did surprise me, was the angel. I almost expected him to give up the fight and let Dean have his way, you know, turn the other cheek and all that, but he was as determined as the hunter. He flipped Dean onto his stomach and held him down with one hand in the middle of his back as the other began working his boxer-briefs down over his hips, exposing his toned ass to the both of us. Well, three if you count the girl I was riding. She was freaking out, by the way. Sweet, innocent girl, never even touched herself before. I'd been giving her an education you don't get in school, maybe college, but she didn't seem very grateful. Shaking my head, I pushed her to the back of our consciousness and focused on the pair on the bed.

Castiel had pulled some lube from somewhere and was pressing a slick finger inside the hunter. Dean's face was pressed into the bed, fingers gripping the comforter, as the angel worked another finger inside. I watched the tendons in his wrist flex and Dean's head came up off the bed, eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a shout of pleasure I could hear through the closed window, pushing his hips back onto the angel's fingers, coming up on his knees to get better leverage. Castiel let him up, his hand moving from Dean's back to clutch at his hip as he worked another finger into the human. Dean's head fell forward again; spreading his legs a little more, and began rocking into Castiel's fingers inside him. The angel was really working Dean's prostate if the hunter's shaking sweating form was anything to go by. Removing his fingers the angel quickly shed his boxers, slicking his beautiful cock and lining himself up behind Dean.

Now, I don't know if suddenly Castiel's demon radar or whatever it is kicked in just then or if he suddenly realized that the curtains were open and God and everyone could see what they were doing, but he looked up just then and those burning crystal blue eyes locked on me, pressed back against the tree, one hand jammed down the front of my shorts working my borrowed body into a frenzy, my own pitch black eyes taking in their every move. I smiled at him, wiggling the fingers of my free hand at him in a wave. His eyes narrowed and I was half afraid he'd stop and smite me on the spot but Dean, Lucifer bless him, chose that moment to press back against the angel. Keeping me trapped in his gaze, Castiel gripped Dean's hip with one hand and pressed his cock against the man's opening with the other. Dean rose up on hands and knees, giving them both better leverage, his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, his lower lip clenched between white teeth as Castiel steadily pushed inside him. The angel's eyes closed, releasing me from his burning gaze, as he was fully sheathed inside the hunter and I shivered at the gorgeous picture they presented.

Despite the fact that I'd probably have a pissed off angel after me as soon as he finished ravishing his human, I couldn't leave. Come on, would _you_ be able to leave before the big finale? Didn't think so.

So I keep having my bit of fun as Castiel grips Dean's hips so hard I can see bruises starting to form already and begins to thrust in earnest. The hunter's eyes fly open, not seeing much of anything, as the angel pounds into him. One hand flies back to grip Castiel's hip briefly before reaching between his own legs to grip his leaking cock, letting the angel's thrusts push him through the tunnel of his fist as those lovely lips formed all manner of obscenities. I was impressed, some of those words even _I_ didn't know.

They soon found a rhythm and moved together for several minutes until Castiel one of Dean's hips, his hand making its way to the man's shoulder and settling over the handprint on the hunter's flesh. Dean's strokes quickened as he pushed himself onto Castiel harder, the dull _thump thump_ of the bed against the wall reaching me outside until Dean's hand began to lose its rhythm on his dick seconds before he shot thick ropes of white onto his hand and the comforter, his body shaking a bit from the intensity. I shivered myself, working borrowed fingers faster against slick flesh as I chased the elusive pleasure the hunter had just experienced. My eyes sought out the pair again and froze at what filled my sight.

Wings stretched out from Castiel's back as he continued thrusting into Dean; not the black shadows that humans usually saw but actual, honest to Lucifer wings. They weren't the blinding white of hallmark cards and renaissance paintings, at least, not completely. They ranged in shade from pure white along the bones at the tops to pitch black on the longest feathers on the bottom, with every shade of gray on the feathers in between. I'd never seen anything like it and the sight froze the breath in my borrowed lungs even as my fingers kept working, the soul I'd overpowered was silent as well, awed, either by the sight my possession of her allowed or the sensations coursing through our body, I didn't know and didn't really care as the angel's eyes clenched shut, the movements of his own borrowed body becoming jerky and uncontrolled.

We came at the same time, if you can believe it. The pleasure washing over my body as bright light erupted from the angel's wings. Not the blinding fire of his true form but enough heavenly purity to sear my eyes behind their closed lids and make me see spots as an unbearable sound echoed in my head forcing me to slam virgin girl's hands over our ears. After several moments of silence I chanced a look around. I had sunk to the ground and now rose shakily to my feet, wiping at the blood that trickled out of my ears from the intensity of an angel's true voice, and peaked into the now fractured window.

Castiel lay draped over Dean's back, no sign of his wings now, neither of them moving except for the rapid rise and fall of their chests. The angel was the first to stir, pulling Dean's back against his chest and running a hand through his sweaty hair before pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Those piercing blue eyes opened and fixed me with a glare. I just grinned at him and blew a kiss before turning away. I almost collided with Sam Winchester's solid chest, stepping back in time to avoid his grasp but his eyes were narrowed on me.

"Do I know you?" he asked.

I smiled.

"No," I said. "But you will."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Disclaimer: I do not own the boys or the world they live in…damn

Author's Note: I had intended this little fic to be just a short little two shot but since you guys begged so nicely the muse has decided to offer up some more porn. I'll try to get the fun stuff up in the next few days but this may be the last post until I can get settled in the new place and internet hooked up. Oh, well. Enjoy.

People think my job is easy. After all, every member of the human race spends a good two thirds of their day lusting after _someone_; friends, co-workers, family members… Oh, don't give me that look, you know it happens! Anyway, it's not the actual lusting that I'm in charge of, it's the directing and channeling of that rather harmless emotion into actions and really, the surface lusts are sooo boring they're not even worth my time. I mean, sure, when I was first starting out a sin was a sin and if a young nun happened to catch the eye of a junior priest I had no problem lending a…hand, still don't, but seriously, that's minor league stuff to something like me. No, the real bread and butter of my existence is to encourage the little buried wants that maybe you don't even know about or even think of a lusts, but if you really think about it, all of the Seven are some version of me. Envy, poor bastard, is the lust for what others have, Pride (total prick) is basically lusting for yourself, Gluttony and Greed are kind of like Envy except for more specific things, Wrath and Sloth are a little harder to pin down as actual lusts but if you dig deep enough you'll find me and that's exactly what I was doing with Sam Winchester.

It was a warm night so Sammy had left his jacket in the motel room, leaving me a nice stretch of bare arm to latch onto. I said earlier that I pushed my power into Dean but that's not entirely accurate. I pushed something into him all right, but it was more putting myself into him than some random metaphoric extension. That little bit of flesh on flesh was enough for me to push through both of our skins and send a piece of whatever's left of my soul swimming through the hunter's veins, seeking out his deepest, darkest desires to grip tight and pull to the surface. I'm not sure how much sweet Sammy had seen of his big brother getting his ass owned by an angel, but he knew that Castiel was in the motel room with Dean and that was enough to send out a sharp spike of emotion dark enough for me to latch onto and drag into the light, so to speak.

I hate to admit it but I was a little surprised by the particular emotion fueling the younger hunter's feelings about good ol' Cas. I expected rapturous awe or even blind terror, Lucifer knows I wouldn't've blamed him in the least, but what I got from dear little brother on the subject of angels…was jealousy.

It was _Sam_ who had faith, even now; it was _Sam_ who had prayed every day of his life, it was _Sam_ who had believed in angels but it was _Dean_ who got one, _Dean_ who was pulled from the Pit on _Heaven's_ command, it was _Dean_, faithless sinner that he was, who was Heaven's chosen warrior. Dean seemed to get closer and closer to the light without even trying and what did Sam get? A damned witch in a borrowed body and death threats every time he turned around, never mind all the good he was doing with the curse he'd been given, all he was to them was the 'boy with the demon blood', the Boy King, so yeah, Sam was jealous of his big brother and his guardian angel, wanted a little of that light for himself and that, ladies and gents, is where I come in.


End file.
